When Noelle and I moved to Colorado, we were young girls. I was thirteen, on the cusp of adolescence, and Noelle was nine, bright-eyed and full of smiles.
We had been accustomed to Houston weather, to warm winters full of rainy days with puddles that collected on our front sidewalk. The first night it snowed in Colorado was magical. We abandoned our books to pull on our coats and to dance around in the falling snow.
Noelle and I, although 4 years apart, were the best of friends, and we found our new life in Colorado to be better than anything we could have imagined. We had snow, we had two large and rambunctious dogs, we had our older sister, Susanne, who hung hammocks and baked blueberry muffins. We were in our childhood version of heaven.
During this time, my dad began to work from our home. He was around more often, and he participated in our household's weekly grocery shopping. One of the special treats he started to bring home were those outrageously large bakery muffins you can find at almost any grocery store.
Noelle and I would wait for him to come through the back door, bearing plastic bags of produce and lean poultry in his arms. We would sort through all the bags of spinach, the chicken thighs and the skim milk to find those gloriously packaged muffins.
Grabbing the largest muffin, we would carefully break our treat into two equal halves. Then, we would proceed to the living room to obsessively tear our muffins apart, slowly savoring bite after bite to make our halves last as long as possible.
My dad brought home a variety of flavors: apple crumb, banana nut, blueberry. But our favorite? Lemon Poppyseed. We would almost swoon when we saw those bluish seeds shouting up at us through that flimsy plastic carton.
We had been accustomed to Houston weather, to warm winters full of rainy days with puddles that collected on our front sidewalk. The first night it snowed in Colorado was magical. We abandoned our books to pull on our coats and to dance around in the falling snow.
Noelle and I, although 4 years apart, were the best of friends, and we found our new life in Colorado to be better than anything we could have imagined. We had snow, we had two large and rambunctious dogs, we had our older sister, Susanne, who hung hammocks and baked blueberry muffins. We were in our childhood version of heaven.
During this time, my dad began to work from our home. He was around more often, and he participated in our household's weekly grocery shopping. One of the special treats he started to bring home were those outrageously large bakery muffins you can find at almost any grocery store.
Noelle and I would wait for him to come through the back door, bearing plastic bags of produce and lean poultry in his arms. We would sort through all the bags of spinach, the chicken thighs and the skim milk to find those gloriously packaged muffins.
Grabbing the largest muffin, we would carefully break our treat into two equal halves. Then, we would proceed to the living room to obsessively tear our muffins apart, slowly savoring bite after bite to make our halves last as long as possible.
My dad brought home a variety of flavors: apple crumb, banana nut, blueberry. But our favorite? Lemon Poppyseed. We would almost swoon when we saw those bluish seeds shouting up at us through that flimsy plastic carton.
When I heard a knock on my door this past Friday, I didn't expect to be greeted by a cheerful and wet postman. But despite my surprise, he handed me a large box and bid me good day. When I pried open the cardboard container, I was hit with the smell of citrus and a vibrant splash of color.
Meyer lemons. And a lot of them.
My precious friend, Kim, from the Rustic Garden Bistro has a beautiful lemon tree in her yard. (Please go visit her blog...Kim and Barry are amazing people!) She generously sent me a huge carton of Meyer lemons, and they couldn't have come at a more perfect time.
I was missing my sisters, I was in sore need of family, and I knew that these lemons could offer me a memory, a glimpse back into a time when I was surrounded by those that I love. I remembered Noelle and I picking apart those poppyseed muffins as young girls, and I knew I needed to make a batch for me and my sweet husband to share.
What came out of my oven was the best batch of lemon poppyseed muffins I've ever created. The sweetness from the Meyer lemons made each bite feel decadent, and the slight crunch from those hundreds of poppy seeds couldn't be mistaken. I ate one, and then I gave two to Ryan. The rest we shared with friends in Austin.
But as I sat down with my lone muffin, I thought of my sweet sister and those earlier days of girlhood. I broke my muffin in half, and as I took a bite I imagined her sitting next to me, doing the same. We both had a book in our laps, a blanket around our knees and our hands rested gently, one on top of the other.
Meyer lemons. And a lot of them.
My precious friend, Kim, from the Rustic Garden Bistro has a beautiful lemon tree in her yard. (Please go visit her blog...Kim and Barry are amazing people!) She generously sent me a huge carton of Meyer lemons, and they couldn't have come at a more perfect time.
I was missing my sisters, I was in sore need of family, and I knew that these lemons could offer me a memory, a glimpse back into a time when I was surrounded by those that I love. I remembered Noelle and I picking apart those poppyseed muffins as young girls, and I knew I needed to make a batch for me and my sweet husband to share.
What came out of my oven was the best batch of lemon poppyseed muffins I've ever created. The sweetness from the Meyer lemons made each bite feel decadent, and the slight crunch from those hundreds of poppy seeds couldn't be mistaken. I ate one, and then I gave two to Ryan. The rest we shared with friends in Austin.
But as I sat down with my lone muffin, I thought of my sweet sister and those earlier days of girlhood. I broke my muffin in half, and as I took a bite I imagined her sitting next to me, doing the same. We both had a book in our laps, a blanket around our knees and our hands rested gently, one on top of the other.
Lemon Poppyseed Muffins
*yields 8-9 muffins
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cups granulated sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 TBSP poppy seeds
1/3 cup whole milk
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 egg (lightly beaten)
1/2 TBSP lemon zest
Juice from one medium Meyer lemon
1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F. Butter or line a 12 tin muffin pan.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together your flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and poppy seeds. Using a glass measuring cup, combine your egg, milk, and oil. Add zest and lemon juice.
3. Gently fold your wet ingredients into your dry ingredient, being careful to not overmix. Using a 1/3 cup measuring scoop, divide your batter into your muffin pan. Bake in your preheated oven for 15-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool five minutes in pan before removing to a wire rack.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores
*yields 8-9 muffins
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cups granulated sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 TBSP poppy seeds
1/3 cup whole milk
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 egg (lightly beaten)
1/2 TBSP lemon zest
Juice from one medium Meyer lemon
1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F. Butter or line a 12 tin muffin pan.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together your flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and poppy seeds. Using a glass measuring cup, combine your egg, milk, and oil. Add zest and lemon juice.
3. Gently fold your wet ingredients into your dry ingredient, being careful to not overmix. Using a 1/3 cup measuring scoop, divide your batter into your muffin pan. Bake in your preheated oven for 15-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool five minutes in pan before removing to a wire rack.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores
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